Magic's Presence
by Silver-Serval
Summary: Though he did jump, Tylendel never did die... But why? And what’s going to happen now? VanyelTylendel. Rated for later content.


_**Magic's Presence**_

**Disclaimer**: I own my ideas, but Misty Lackey owns everything else.

**Summary**: Though he did jump, Tylendel never did die... But why? And what's going to happen now?

**Author's Note**: This came from otu of the blue... My first Heralds fic... Tell me what you think!!

* * *

They regarded Tylendel with unwavering, saffron eyes; they seemed to be waiting for something. 

He quavered out a single word, his voice breaking on the final, high-pitched syllable – and they turned as one entity to face the cowering folk of Leshara, mouths gaping in unholy parodies of a dog's foolish grin.

But before they flowed a single step towards their victims, a shrill scream of equine defiance rang out from back behind Vanyel.

And Gala thundered through the Gate at his back, pounding past him, then past Tylendel, ignoring the Trainee completely.

She screamed again, more anger and courage in her cry than Vanyel had ever thought to hear in a horse's voice, and skidded to a halt halfway between Tylendel and the things he had called up. _She_ was glowing, just like she had during 'Lendel's fit; a pure blue-white radiance that attracted the eye in the same way that the yellow glow of the beast's eyes repelled. She continued to ignore Tylendel's presence entirely, turning her back to him; rearing up to her full height and pawing at the air with her forehooves, trumpeting a challenge to the five creatures before her.

They reversed their positions in an instant as her hooves touched the ground again, facing her with silent snarls of anger. She pawed the earth, and bared her teeth at them, daring them to try and fight her.

"Gala!" Tylendel cried in anguish, his voice breaking yet again. "_Gala! Don't–"_

She turned her head just enough to look him fully in the eyes – and Vanyel heard her mental reply as it rang through Tylendel's mind and heart and splintered his soul.

_:I do not know you:_ she said coldly, remotely.

* * *

Once again, Vanyel started to black out, feeling as if someone was trying to pull his soul out of his body. He fought valiantly against unconsciousness, though he felt as if he had nothing left to fight _with_; both the rage and despair were gone now, leaving only an empty place, a void that ached unbearably. 

He felt a tine _inflowing_ of strength; it wasn't much, but it was enough to give him the means to fight the blackness away from his eyes, to fight off the vertigo, and to finally get a precarious hold on the world again.

The first thing he saw was Tylendel; still on his knees, but no longer weeping. He was vacant-eyed, white as bleached linen, and staring at his own blood-smeared hands. Where the five creatures once been there was now nothing; only the mangled body of Gala and the burned and churned-up earth.

Taking her hand away from his shoulder was Savil – her face an unreadable mask.

* * *

Then again the unexpected; the Gate-energy, instead of dissipating back into the air and ground, flared up, and surged back down the one conduit left to it. The one force-line that had tied it into Vanyel. Savil Saw it – but not in time to stop it. 

Vanyel screamed in agony, convulsing, clutching the pillar as the released power arced back into him-and from him, a second, weaker arc leapt to Tylendel.

Tylendel jerked into sudden alertness-and uttered the most painful cry of despair Savil had ever heard; it was a cry that would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life.

She pivoted and grabbed for him as quickly as she could as Vanyel collapsed in a moaning heap at the foot of the pillar.

But it was too late. No longer held in deceptive docility by his shock, he dodged her outstretched hand. She saw his face in another of the lightning flashes: his eyes were all pupil, his face a twisted mask of nothing but pain. He looked frantically about him with those terrible eyes that held no sanity at all, dodged her again, and then dashed past her into the tangled trees of the Grove.

Jaysen gave chase; Savil limped after both of them. Lightning was striking so often overhead now that the sky was almost as bright as day. She tried to use the line of their shared magic to get at Tylendel's mind as she ran, hoping to bring him back to her, but stumbled in shock and fell when she touched his thoughts. There was nothing to get a hold on — the boy was a chaotic, aching void of grief and loneliness. It was so empty, so unhuman, that for a moment she could only crouch in the cold, dry grass and listen to her overworked heart beat in panic. It took every ounce of discipline she had to get her own mind back under control after touching that terrible, all-consuming sorrow.

Belatedly she thought of Vanyel. If anyone could reach Tylendel, surely he could.

She lurched painfully to her feet and stumbled back towards the Temple. In the lightning flashes she could make out the younger boy staggering blindly out of the Temple, clutching himself as if he were freezing-saw him stumble and fall on his shoulder, fall without trying to save himself.

Then she saw Tylendel race out of the tree-shadows to her right and race past her, past his fallen lover, and back into the Temple itself.

And her heart went cold with a sudden premonition of disaster.

She forced her exhausted legs into a stumbling parody of a run, but she wasn't fast enough.

Just as she reached the place where Vanyel lay, panting and moaning in pain, she saw his head snap up as if to respond to a call only he could hear. He seemed to be looking up at the tower that held the Death Bell. She heard him cry out something unintelligible, and followed his horror-stricken glance–

–and saw Tylendel poised against the lightning-filled sky, arms spear as if to fly–

–and saw him leap–

He seemed to hang in the air for a moment, as if he had somehow mastered flight.

But only for a moment; in the next heart beat he was falling, falling-she couldn't tell if the scream she heard was hers or Vanyel's or both. It wasn't Tylendel's; his eyes were closed, and his mouth twisted and jaw clenched in a rictus of pure grief.

She felt the impact of his body with the unforgiving ground as if it had been her own body that had fallen–

–and the scream ended.

Jaysen stopped dead beside her, frozen in mid-step.

She whimpered in the back of her throat, and Jaysen walked slowly to the crumpled thing lying on the ground, not twenty paces from where they stood. He went to his knees beside it, then looked up, eyes wide with surprise.

She stumbled to Jaysen's side, each step costing her more pain than she had felt in a lifetime of sacrifice to Queen and Circle. She went heavily to her knees, and gathered up the limp, pitiable body to her breast.

She held him, cradling him against her shoulder, gently rocking a little as if she held a small child. Tears of joy coursed silently down her face to mingle with the rain that was pouring from the sky; it seemed the whole world was echoing her sudden joy. Jaysen knelt beside her, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

It was only when the Healers arrived to take their burden from them that they thought of Vanyel, and sent one of the gathered Heralds to look for him.

Tylendel was alive... But the Vanyel was gone.

* * *

Silver: So... What did you all think? Too chiche in letting him live? I do adore feed back. I adore reviews and their reviewers! 

Van: It also makes her write faster and update sooner to know that someone likes the fic...

'Lendel: Please update? gives a smoldery-eye look to all She's gotta find Van! My life sorta depends upon it.

Silver: SHOOSH. I have rights to be secretive! Stop ranting my plot!!

Van: o.o;; Whatever.


End file.
